Love and Hangovers
by 13.shimer.13
Summary: Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia are in love. Now, if only they would do something about that. Rated M for mentions of murder, abuse, rape and paedophilia. Will be slightly angsty in places, but have a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.

"The FBI are missing a trick, making you wear clothes everywhere," Penelope Garcia informed Derek Morgan, in her best matter-of-fact tone, barely concealing her shit eating grin at the face he pulled. But, conceal it she did.

"Baby girl, it's not just the FBI who demand I stay clothed. There's all kinds of decency laws." She turned to look at him, widening her eyes innocently—though the look in them was anything but.

"Hot stuff, there's all kinds of indecent things about you wearing clothes, and not wearing them." He smirked.

"I'm _very_ decent with my clothes off. If you come round tonight, I'll show you just how decent I am." She smiled softly, the game losing just a bit of its fun.

"Promises, promises." She said, turning her eyes back to her computer screens.

Derek had just opened his mouth, intent on letting Penelope know that he was a man who kept his promises, when the door to Penelope's office opened and Hotch, a very hungover looking Hotch, mumbled something—Derek didn't know what, but he assumed it was time to gather for a new case.

The job came first, it always did. And he would keep his promise later.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own Criminal Minds.

On the jet, Hotch was out of it. Occasionally he mumbled incoherently, about turning the lights (the sun) out, never drinking again, plotting to destroy Rossi and his vast collection of assorted, lethal beverages, and about his colleagues talking quieter.

So, of course, everyone talked much louder, and much more cheerfully. It wasn't often that Aaron Hotchner let himself get so out of sorts, and especially not on the job.

The aforementioned Rossi, while just as cheerful as the others, was also suffering. He knew that it was the state Hotch was in that was keeping him so alive and happy right now. Both senior agents made a dash for the toilet at the same time—Hotch missed out by seconds, vomiting heartily right onto the jet's floor.

It was at this joyous moment that Penelope Garcia was tagged into the conversation, and it was a moment she knew she would cherish, for all of time. "You alright boss man?" she called out, trying to establish whether or not poor Hotch was still alive and kicking—everyone else was too busy laughing. He grumbled from the floor, vomiting once again, and Reid quickly filled her in on his progress, between gasps of laughter, clutching onto a hysterical Prentiss.

Again, Derek was trying to think of a way to casually slip into the conversation that he liked his best friend, but _liked_ her liked her. Just thinking that made him feel like he was back in third grade again, and he let out a groan not too dissimilar from Hotch's.

 _Love and hangovers_ , he thought rolling his eyes, _the two biggest causes of headaches and vomiting fits._


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or its characters.

Eventually, the team had gotten up to speed on their new case. Thankfully, the journey had taken so long that Hotch and Rossi (now even more cheerful since he had managed to make it to an appropriate place to vomit, and hadn't stunk the jet out) had both made somewhat full recoveries. Upon landing, the team were ready for another UnSub, another shitty day at the office.

It turned out to be an even shittier case than they were expecting—all cases involving kids were terrible, but this UnSub was proving to be even more prolific than they had known about, with another fifteen young girls raped and murdered added to the five they had already known about, before the day was up. By the next day, they had over thirty confirmed dead.

It took two days to track the UnSub down.

It took two days for all of the team members to feel completely and utterly demoralized.

The mass graves they found—the children looked like dolls, used and broken and tossed away, like so much trash. And, of course the UnSub was married. And, of course the UnSub had children. And of course they were two girls, two little girls. Frightened and scared and abused. But alive. Alive, but so, so dead inside. JJ wondered if they wouldn't have been better off dead.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and I don't own Criminal Minds.

The ride back felt even longer. The ride back was silent, and still. No one was hungover, but all of them instinctually wanted a drink. Everyone was crying, or crying inside. Too shocked to let it out just yet. JJ, Hotch and Rossi wept openly. Prentiss wanted to cry, but couldn't. Not until she was safe at home with Sergio. Not until she was in the shower, washing off every single memory, of every single body, of every single little girl, raped and broken and dead, or raped and broken and somehow _alive_ and having to relive it, again and again and again, off of her.

Reid was in shock. He wanted to sink back into the drugs, the drugs he had been fighting for so long to keep at bay, and had so far managed to beat time and time again. Case after case after case. He wanted to forget. But he knew that that wasn't what he should do. Remembering was painful. But there were lots of little girls out there who could never forget, and for them he too would remember. If he sunk back into oblivion he wouldn't be able to help as effectively, and that wasn't what he wanted.

Derek Morgan felt empty, and bitter, and sad. And so, so tired. How many more Carl Bufords were in the world? How many more times would he have to confront his abuser, how many more times would he have to look young children in the eyes and see what he saw in himself in there? He was sad, and tired. He was too sad and tired to even feel angry, though he was. He was always angry. He thought about the Hulk, and had to smile a twisted smile. Yes, he was always angry. But tonight, after the crap they had just been through, after the crap so many little ones were still going through, he needed something more.

He needed love.

And he realised, perhaps too late—he was always too late when it came to love—that that was what he had needed all along. That was what he had been trying to find all along. Something to fill that emptiness, to combat the bitterness, the anger, the sadness, the overwhelming exhaustion that never left his side, and never let him sleep. Love. And he knew just where to look for it, had known all along really.

Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan were inevitable. And now he just had to prove it to her.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Still don't own a thing. (Also I'm from England, so some of the words may be spelt different than they are in America, some of the colloquialisms might be wrong too and I'm sorry about that in advance.)

The jet landed, and the team linked arms—Rossi, JJ and Hotch, Reid, Prentiss and Morgan. They stumbled, like they were already drunk, to the bar they frequented on nights like this. They all wondered whether or not there had ever been any nights like this. Seeming to finally break out of reverie, Morgan looked up at where they were and noticed that it wasn't where he was meant to be; until he saw Penelope waiting for them outside and he unlinked his arms from the others, and fell into her waiting embrace. Her beautiful eyes were bright with tears, her hair was flat against her face for once. She lacked her usual bounce, her happiness and her glow.

Prentiss suddenly knew that if Garcia looked as shitty as that, tonight she was hideous. Looking around at the rest of the team, she confirmed that they all looked as shitty as felt.

They got some stares, walking into the bar. They didn't usually, but seven FBI agents walking in near closing and looking that crap? That was odd. The bartender, glancing up, nodded at them and prepared for a long Friday night. You didn't have a close vicinity to Quantico if you couldn't put up with weird shit.

It took Penelope a long time to realise that Derek still hadn't let go of her, ending the embrace so they could manoeuvre around the bar, but still keeping his hands on her. When they sat, he leaned into her again, resting his head on her shoulder, needing bodily comfort to feel some kind of peace. She wasn't going to stop him, or tell him to back off. They were such close friends, had been for so long. And this case had been so tough, and it was children. Abused children. That hit all of them a bit too close to home, in one way or another. They'd had children, or had been abused as children—or in Reid's case, almost been abused.

Of course, Prentiss hadn't (as far as anyone knew) been part of either, but she seemed just as affected as the others.

Talk was elusive. They drank, for the most part in silence, with very few comments being made by any of them. It was enough to be together as a family.

The bar emptied quickly, but they carried on drinking at a slow, sombre pace. The bartender had made it very clear that she may put up with the FBI's crap, but that she wasn't taking anyone else's. She kept a close eye on the group, bringing them what they asked for time and time again. Having a business to run didn't stop her from wanting to tell them that they wouldn't find the comfort they wanted down the end of the bottles. Just as Chrissy was about to strike up the nerve to tell them all that they needed to leave, the group disbanded, paying the tab and tipping _very_ generously. Rossi had realised through the fog of hurt and liquor that it was long past closing.

They filed out, Morgan now putting his arms around Penelope again. JJ and Prentiss piled into a cab together, going back to JJ's. It was closer, and Emily had a change of clothes there. Sadly, this was becoming somewhat of a routine. Rossi pulled Reid into the next cab.

"No, really it's fine, I can wait for another cab—" Rossi scowled, pulling harder.

"None of us should be alone right now." Spencer scowled, tugging his hand away. He didn't want to be babied. Realising why Reid was protesting, he changed tactics. "You'd be doing me a favour," he told the kid—even though Reid was surely over thirty by now, he would always be the kid—gruffly. Reid stopped struggling, and got in with him. Penelope and Derek smiled, listening to the two bicker as the cab pulled away.

"Let me walk you home," Derek offered with that same small smile. His mouth hurt; it didn't know what kind of contortion he was making it perform, but it wanted him to stop and never try again. Penelope nodded, taking his hand in hers and starting to walk, slightly unsteadily, in the direction of her apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Still don't own the things.

It always surprised people that Penelope had elected to stay in the same apartment that she had been shot outside of. She didn't pretend it hadn't been weird at first, walking past the same spot where her blood marked the floor every single day. The thing was, Battle would have loved it if she had died. And he would have loved it even more if, as she hadn't died, her personality had died, if her work helping people had died, and if she had let herself get bullied out of the apartment that was rightfully hers. She paid the rent, not him.

She liked to think that if Battle was looking up at her from hell, or watching her as a ghost, then he would be completely dissatisfied—she had been about to change apartments before the shooting, now she was even more dedicated to living there. Sometimes she thought about toning her style down; now she was sure that she was meant to rock her look, and amped it up as much as she could. She tired herself out working for the BAU, running the survivor's groups, helping other divisions on the sly. She ran herself ragged, but good. The next bastard who tried to murder her for doing her job, and doing it well, could kiss her beautiful ass.

And—it was a beautiful ass. She told herself, most every day, after the shooting. And only stopped after she actually believed it. She had become more confident, more bubbly and happy and crazy good and crazy weird. It reminded her of something she had watched, or read somewhere: the more enemies you had, the better a job you were doing. Being shot was, in some small way, a testament to how hard she was rocking her job.

Sure, she wasn't the girl that men wrote songs about after seeing her across the room in a smoky bar. She'd never liked smoky bars, anyway. And the kinds of men who frequented them probably weren't her type.

She'd had Kevin, for a long time. And that had gone a long way to building her confidence back up. After Kevin there was Sam. He was sweet, he really was. But he let her control everything. Sure, she liked to control things. But she was in control, she made sure of it, of almost every area of her life. She had been since her parents had died. Occasionally, though she didn't like to admit it, she needed someone else to take the reins and do some planning, make some ground rules that she could follow, if only for a little while. After Sam, there had been Steve, and Todd, and Brian. All of them had meant well, but there was nothing there, with any of them. All of them was sweet, but sweet just wasn't enough.

There were no sparks. And that was the little speech she used to end each and every one. Kevin had never understood why she kept the apartment, and why she would never move in with him, and why she couldn't marry him. Kevin had probably been a mistake. Worse, Kevin subconsciously knew he had been a mistake. Worst of all, he undoubtedly knew she was in love with her best friend, in a way she could never be with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Not the owner of Criminal Minds, or the characters.

"Well, this is me." Penelope said, wanting to hit herself in the head right after she'd said it. _Well said, Cap'n Obvious!_

She waited for Derek to tease her for her redundant statement, but the teasing never came. He was just looking at her, looking haunted and sad and lonely. The lack of teasing, the general lack of response, made her feel nervous.

"Do you want to come in?" She tried. Anything to break his silence.

"Please," it was so quiet she could barely hear it, but she nodded and opened her door. They were still holding hands, so it took her a little longer than it usually would have. She didn't mind.

"Do you want some coffee?" Penelope offered, moving her hand out from his so she could take her coat off and hang it up, and remove her shoes.

"I'll make it," he told her, trying to smile but failing. "It's not like I don't know where everything is." Penelope laughed.

"Yeah? That's what you think. How do you know I haven't moved everything around since the last time you were here, just to confuse you?"

"Because I know you'd be too confused too." He said, and this time he managed the smile, but it didn't reach quite to his eyes. Still, it was a start. She left him to sort out the coffee, and got changed in her room. It was a relief to get out of her work clothes. She had stayed in the office for the last two days, hadn't slept, hadn't changed, had barely eaten anything.

As if her stomach had just received the memo, it grumbled. Loudly. Derek—the ass—laughed, just as loudly from her kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" she called, grumbling but not really unhappy. "Haven't eaten in a while, alright?"

"I'll make something," Derek said. His voice was a lot closer. She turned and saw that he was standing just outside her room. She wasn't naked—just half naked. She tried not to blush and finished changing. He had moved away, back to the kitchen, back to make her coffee and food. He was the guest. She should be doing that.

"Hey, I should be doing that," she said, moving around to help him. He shook his head and shooed her.

"Let me." So, she did. Could she ever say no to him?

Penelope cleared her couch and the coffee table; usually she was a bit of a neat freak, but tonight she just wasn't in the mood. She dumped everything on the floor, yawning.

Derek came over with coffee, water, biscuits and two plates of leftover lasagne. She was barely able to mutter a thank you before she fell on the food, and drained the water, and then got to work on the coffee, dunking the biscuits in and feeling so much better already. She didn't have time to feel bad, or guilty, or embarrassed about the way she was demolishing her food. She knew Derek was doing the same anyway, and they were best friends. They'd seen each other in worse ways. Hell, he'd just seen her half naked.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Still not the owner of Criminal Minds.

"Sweet dreams, baby girl." He kissed her cheek chastely, then turned ever so slightly away from her. He couldn't bring himself to go far from her, but he was trying to keep up appearances, albeit very shoddily. He _liked_ sleeping next to her. He needed the comfort, too. It had been such a shitty case. But shitty case or not, he was struggling to pretend like he didn't want to fall asleep by her side, and wake up next to her each and every morning that he could. She had mumbled something in return that might have been 'you too', but also could have been 'let's get a zoo'. They were both way over their respective limits.

Derek was halfway to sleep when Penelope burst out laughing madly, rolling into him and shaking with fits of laughter.

"Breathe," he told her, laughing too. Her laugh was infectious. "What's so funny?"

"Incest," Penelope said, through gasps of laughter.

"Incest?" He raised an eyebrow. "What the…"

"Our little family, at the BAU. Hotch is mom, Gideon was dad. Rossi's our perverted step-dad, who occasionally flirts with the kids and mom makes him sleep on the sofa." They both laughed, recalling the stern talking-to Hotch had given Rossi for flirting with JJ. "Then Jayje and Em are my sisters, Elle the very long-lost cousin, and Reid is my kid brother. But you…you're like, a hot cousin twice removed or something. I don't know. We're family, but not in that way, yaknow?" Derek grinned.

"Yeah, you're my hot twice removed cousin too. Definitely don't see you as a sister."

"Right!" Penelope grinned. "You're my best friend, and you're family, but it wouldn't be weird if we kissed or anything."

"Exactly," Derek replied, moving ever so slightly closer to her. "It wouldn't be weird or incestuous if we kissed."

"No, not weird at al—" their lips met suddenly, though neither was sure who had started it. Penelope sighed into the kiss, every fibre of her body screaming one word repeatedly: finally. Derek used her sigh to part her lips gently with his tongue, deepening the kiss slowly, sweetly. Her arms slowly wound their way around his neck, bringing him just a bit closer. He took the hint and moved a lot closer, one hand grasping onto her lower back, the other going to her hair and stroking it, lovingly.

They broke apart to breath, and both smiled content. "Now that was a good night kiss." Penelope said, her breathing slightly shaky. Best kiss of her life? Probably.

"I'll say," Derek sing-sang. He looked so genuinely happy, relaxed and comfortable that she had to reach out and kiss him again.

And again.

And again.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Don't own Criminal Minds.

"Good morning, princess."

"I'll show you a good morning, hot stuff." Penelope muttered through a yawn, keeping her eyes closed in preparation for the onslaught of the Evil Glowing Orb.

"If you opened your eyes, you'd be having an even better morning," Derek said, a teasing lilt in his deep voice.

"The Evil Glowing Orb, mittens."

"Mittens? That's a new one. You're _su-uper_ hung-over." The sing-song way he dragged out 'super' made Penelope want to barf. Preferably all over him. He was sickeningly cheerful after his morning run, always was.

"I love you, but you need to _stop_ ," she commanded gruffly. Her head was banging.

"You should love me," he informed her. "Wake up and smell the coffee, baby girl." She opened one eye instantly.

"Coffee?" She opened the other eye, and saw a cup of what looked like her favourite sugary, caffeinated beverage. "Did you remember the shot of syrup?" Penelope croaked out, reaching hands out for the cup impatiently. Derek frowned.

"You really doubt me? I'm hurt. Dearest, I got you a triple-shot. Wow, grabby," he said, rolling his eyes as she snatched the drink from him, and gulped half of it down in one go. She moaned, and he smirked.

"I really do love you," she told him, with a small smile, before she went back to drinking the coffee. When she was finished, she finally looked him over properly, and realised he was half naked, a towel—her towel, but she wasn't going to complain about that right now—wrapped low around his waist.

She was glad she hadn't noticed that while drinking the coffee. She probably would have choked on it. But hey, then he would have had to give her mouth to mouth…

"Earth to Penelope," Derek said, waving his hand in front of her, chuckling as he noticed her slightly glazed over eyes.

"Come back to bed, handsome," she invited, a smirk flirting with her lips. Lips that he knew his own should be flirting with. Throwing her a mock bow, he hastily joined her on the bed, linking their lips together as they both giggled and settled in for a good make-out session.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Don't own Criminal Minds, don't own Penelope or Derek.

The thumb war had been going strong for ten minutes before Penelope suddenly stopped. "What are we doing?"

"We're having a thumb war. Or we were," he claimed her motionless thumb with his "until I won." He crowed, looking so adorable she couldn't help but smile.

"You did win, and we're all very proud of you," she said in the kind of voice he had heard her use around Jack and Henry.

"Hey!" he cried. "Don't patronize me," he commanded, pouting. Penelope burst out laughing.

"You always fall for that, you big lump." He growled.

"What, and now you're going to make fun of my body? I'm very insecure." She snickered, and he pulled a face. "Alright, alright. But I _could_ have been insecure. You shouldn't comment on appearances unless you have something nice to say," he informed her, sounding very priss. Priss and uptight, Derek Morgan! Yeah, right.

She snickered again, and he fell on her, tickling her until she was laughing so hard she was crying, and completely unable to fight him off. He pulled her wrists above her head in one of his hands, and showered her face with tiny kisses, letting her get her breath back, but keeping her under him. "We," kiss on the forehead. "Are," kiss on her left eyelid. "A," kiss on her right eyelid. "Couple." then he kissed her on the lips, softly and gently.

Just as she started to relax into the kiss, Derek ended it, letting her wrists go and beginning to climb off of her. He had straddled her during the tickle fight. She made a noise of protest at the loss of contact. "Unless you don't want to—to be with me, that is. I mean, I would understand if you didn't want to, it's just I thought you wanted me that way too, and I know it probably wasn't the right time, but I tried to tell you earlier and then there was a case and then the case was—" Penelope put her hand over his mouth.

"Woah, stud. Slow down. I do. Want to be a couple, I mean. With you." She felt him kiss her hand, and she took her hand away and replaced it with her lips. He broke away, causing her to groan slightly.

"Fair warning," Derek said with a grin. "Now that I've got you I'm not letting you go."

Penelope grinned back. "Good, because I'm not letting go of you, either."

They resumed kissing, a different kind of kissing to last night or earlier that morning. Those times had been sweet, gentle, slow. Romantic. There was still love in these kisses, but there was also a desperation and a growing need in them. Six years of knowing each other, six years of foreplay. This was beyond the three date rule she usually stuck to.

Derek pulled away again, "I love you, you know. I've just realised I hadn't said that even once. I love you." She grinned, then pulled him back down to her, impatient to kiss him once more. Now that she had him she never wanted to stop kissing him.

Derek had other ideas. He broke the kiss yet again, "I love you! And you love me!" he told her happily, like she hadn't _just_ been there with him this whole time. Penelope growled, and pushed him down. She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips quickly before he could protest.

"I never figured you for a babbler. No more talking, stud." Derek gulped, his eyes darkening with passion.

"Yes ma'am." Penelope reclaimed his lips again, happy now that the only time his lips were leaving hers was when they were on her neck, her ears, her back. Or when their tops were coming off. Or when he was kissing her chest, her stomach, her hips. Special attention was paid to her scar from the time Battle had shot her. And finally, finally, he used his mouth to worship her, not stopping until she came undone beneath him, crying his name.

She was eager to repay him. He was eager to finally show her just how decent he was without his clothes on.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Don't own the thing.

That perfect weekend came to an end. They travelled to work in Esther, with Derek pulling on his dishevelled clothing from the Friday. In theory they'd had time to do the laundry, but in practice the closest they'd gotten to doing laundry was making love on the floor in the kitchen (and that was largely accidental, and in no way related to making any effort to clean clothes).

Walking into the building together, the two couldn't help but burst into laughter every now and again. All they would do was look at each other, and Penelope would break into another fit of giggles. Derek, upon hearing her adorable giggles, would start laughing too. They were holding hands as they walked to the elevator.

Once inside the elevator, Derek waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Penelope, and she snickered. "Cameras," was all she said, turning away and pretending like she didn't want to make out with him there and then. Looking out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed him pouting. She was helpless against that pout. "Fiiiiiine," she said, sighing and pretending like it was such a burden to her, to kiss him.

"Yeah you are," Derek said, smiling. "And all mine." They both smiled and kissed, the floors whizzing by. They were in early, and they managed to make it to the BAU without anyone joining them on their elevator ride. By the time the doors finally pinged open, they were embracing and kissing sweetly.

"There you are! I tried calling you. I thought you were dead!" Their kisses were interrupted by a furious JJ, who suddenly seemed to realise that Morgan was with Garcia, and Morgan was… kissing Garcia. What.

"Surprise?" Penelope said, weakly. Derek reached out for her hand and took it, offering support by rubbing her fingers with his. "Jayje, I'm sorry. I should have looked at my phone, I… was a bit distracted," she explained, blushing furiously. JJ laughed, all of the anger gone—it had been concern, more than anything. After that case they were all tightly wound.

"Finally," was all she managed to say, pulling Penelope and Derek into a big hug. That was how the rest of the team found them.

"Did someone die?" Reid asked immediately, looking concerned.

Derek snorted. "Wow, someone has to die for us to hug?"

"Well, neither one of you answered your phones all weekend," Reid started to explain.

"We figured something was wrong." Hotch said shrugging.

"I didn't. I thought they finally got together." Prentiss said, grinning. "I was right, wasn't I?" they both nodded and Prentiss let out a huge "Aha!" Rossi didn't look as happy as Penelope had figured he would be for them. "Pay up, old man." Prentiss ordered, a wolfish grin on her face. Rossi rolled his eyes.

"You couldn't have waited for another month, Morgan?" Rossi asked, pulling his wallet out. "I assume you were the instigator, anyway."

"Yeah, who did start it?" JJ asked with interest. She had finally released them from her death grip of a hug. Penelope and Derek turned to look at each other. They both shrugged.

"We're not really sure." Penelope said with a smile. "I guess it was both of us at the same time." Rossi scowled.

"If you had waited just a month longer… Now I have to give Prentiss some outrageous, _untrue_ , compliments." Penelope snickered, Derek grinned.

"Sorry, dad." They chorused—sounding neither apologetic nor respectful.

"What?"

"You'll never know." Penelope said with a laugh. "It doesn't matter, anyway. Now pay Prentiss her damned compliments." She ordered, chuckling.

With that, everyone turned on Rossi, goading him into complementing Prentiss with the pre-agreed upon compliments, and as much sincerity as he could muster up.

Derek and Penelope stared into each other's eyes, both of them filled with love for each other and their strange, beautiful family. The bickering carried on around them, and it was comforting. Whatever happened next, they would face it together.

A/N: Hi, hope you've enjoyed reading the story! That's it for now, please review.


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